


jaded but not yet broken

by hailynx



Series: Lost and Found [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Red String of Fate, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailynx/pseuds/hailynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the empty white, Jongdae is the splash of colour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jaded but not yet broken

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own EXO.  
> Please do not translate or repost/reupload.

There is a deafening screeching in Yixing’s ears but it all eventually fades along with the aching that’s been punched into his sides. He also feels sticky red hot warmth seeping through his clothes and into his skin but that sensation sounds fade out as he comes to his senses. When he finally opens his eyes, his focus is on his own raven locks, drenched in cold sweat. Once his line of vision widens, Yixing finds that there is a brunet with large chocolate brown orbs staring down at him, at an uncomfortably close distance. However, his words are stuck in his throat so he just pushes himself up from the floor and creates a comfortable distance. It is suddenly cold but he isn’t in any kind of pain anymore, so he supposes that that is a good start to this bizarre white room.

 

“Um... hi,” Yixing tries in broken English.

 

“Hi,” the brunet greets, teeth flashing pearly white. “Korean is okay.”

 

“Oh,” Yixing mouths, eyes glancing uncertainly, “Where…”

 

“A safe place,” the Korean announces.

 

Yixing looks around himself again and all that he can take in his white. Aside from himself and the stranger, there is nothing else is in the endless sea of white. Yixing supposes that this can be as safe as it can get. There are no senses of danger in the empty space. Additionally, all the pain that Yixing had been feeling has disappeared without leaving any traces behind. It is so quiet and peaceful that begins to question himself. Yixing licks his dry lips and takes a deep breath to compose and open himself up to the only other human he can see.

 

“Uh… I’m Zhang Yixing,” he offers with a guarded smile.

 

The stranger smiles brightly, eyes crinkling up like crescents and proceeds to etch hints of a pale pink into their exclusive world, “Kim Jongdae. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 

* * *

 

Jongdae barely leaves room for questions. He is always jumping about from one end of white to the other. The environment is free of the normal black and grey that he is used to and even the emotions that Yixing likes to read in colours are blank. Instead, Yixing’s eyes are always following Jongdae because Jongdae is the only source of colour, with his crispy peroxide brown hair, dark black shirt and blue wash jeans. His smiles, though, tends to give off a range of colours all together and that’s a start, Yixing supposes, to regaining colour in his life.

 

The brunet turns and waves brightly, like a child. “Hi, Yixing.”

 

“Hi,” he says back with another smile that’s well guarded.

 

Jongdae snickers and refuses to answer Yixing’s questioning gaze. Yixing wonders for a brief moment if Jongdae will show him around but then realises that there is nothing to see. It’s completely empty and void of anything remotely living, aside from them. They have what they need to get by. The furniture is dyed in white as well, but Yixing has managed to work that out for his own comfort. Jongdae likes to sit on the couch, alternating to the moon chair and then sprawling his body on top of one of the soft and fluffy beds. At first he is surprised that such things exist but then he gets used to it, having need to use the furniture himself. Jongdae on the other hand, is at ease with everything, comfortable even when he’s just sitting on the cold and hard ground. That hints to Yixing that the brunet has been around for a long, long time.

 

“What kind of safe place is this?”

 

Jongdae’s chocolate brown eyes dilate and they’re glossed over with a shine that makes Yixing think that they’ll sell for more than his guitar at home. They glow stunningly with the shine, making the gaze that Jongdae holds, firm without wobbles. It is as stable as he presents his whole being to be. Jongdae doesn’t look like he has any doubts or any fear and nothing changes, even when Yixing pins him with questions that he may not be able to answer.

 

“You mean…” Jongdae pauses, bites down on his lips and then parts them again, leaving small dents on the dry layer of skin. “You haven’t—you don’t remember what happened before you came here?”

 

“Now I doubt this is an institution,” Yixing jokes, hoping to lighten the mood.

 

Jongdae arches a brow and crosses his arms defensively. “Are you saying that you think I’m crazy?”

 

“Only as crazy as I am,” Yixing smiles sheepishly. “But really…”

 

“Afterlife, Yixing.” Jongdae replies flatly, arms dangling at his sides while his expression stiffens. He looks apologetic for what he says, even though it is not his fault. “You died.”

 

The raven’s mouth falls open and he cannot bring it to a proper close. He thinks about saying something in return but only air tumbles out of his mouth. Instead, he nods dumbly to Jongdae and takes a step away. The brunet nods at him knowingly and leaves him to his own devices in the endless white. Yixing finds himself a corner (if it is a corner) and settles down, resting his head against the hard shell of his knees and exhales deeply.

 

Jongdae’s words echo and rebound on the endless white, drilling it in until it seeps into his skin to mar it. However, when he touches himself to check, he can still feel body like it exists. Everything is intact and it hurts when he tries very purposefully to slam himself into the wall. The raven doesn’t understand how he’s dead—but then again, how does he know what it’s like to be dead? Perhaps, it isn’t all that different from his life before.

 

Heaving a deep sigh, Yixing lifts his head a little and parts his eyelids to study Jongdae across the room. The brunet moves about swiftly, walking in a perfect cycle, eyes locked on the ground and a pout on his face but he makes no noise to disturb Yixing’s silence. Instead, any thought processes that occur, happen solely in his head, when he raises his hand to scratch his head or tap at his chin.

 

As he watches, it occurs to him that Jongdae is very accustomed to being alone. It brings a small frown to his cheeks, but Yixing can’t help but feel slightly happy because at the very least, he is not alone.

 

* * *

 

“So, why are you still here, Jongdae?” Yixing asks suddenly.

 

Yixing has been thinking a lot of this place. He is given the freedom to explore, but he doesn’t feel safe enough to do so. Instead, he spends his time thinking. And in that time, Yixing has managed to come up with something that resembles half a theory because it is odd that it is just them.

 

Jongdae turns to him with an amused look in his eyes that makes them shine beautifully again. They haven’t talked much, given the way that Yixing likes to keep his space for safety, so Jongdae is pleased that Yixing is finally coming out of his shell and inviting Jongdae into his world. However, this question is a little hard to explain because he isn’t quite sure of it himself.

 

“Hm,” Jongdae hums thoughtfully, keeping his gaze fixed on the whiteness beneath his feet. “I guess I’m waiting.”

 

Yixing watches Jongdae’s back and then lowers his gaze. He finds no shadow casted on the ground despite the lighting that they have. Along the way, he has picked up the small differences but sometimes, he finds that there are also things that are out of the ordinary for his new ordinary world. Sometimes, Yixing thinks that he can hear bells and sees tints of red. However, once Yixing blinks, the tinge of colour is gone and all that is left is the pure whiteness that makes him doubt.

 

Jongdae’s answer starts his internal clock. Waiting seems like a relatively easy concept to understanding, but without time to measure, how long does Jongdae plan to be here? There is nothing here and it doesn’t seem like there is anything worth waiting for. The things that Yixing knows as essential needs to go on living are unneeded in this place. He doesn’t have cravings for food and has gone days without water, but his throat doesn’t feel dry. There is no need to wait for these things, for example, preparation time to cook or the time to go and fetch a cup of water.

 

But still, Jongdae says that he is waiting. Yixing concludes that he is not ready to go, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense when he applies the half theory to himself. Yixing isn’t waiting. He has no idea why he is still here.

 

* * *

 

Just once, Jongdae mentions Luhan and catches Yixing off guard.

 

“How do you know about Luhan?” Yixing questions cautiously.

 

Yixing has never mentioned Luhan’s name since he met Jongdae. In fact, he hasn’t mentioned anyone at all. Even if this place is full of mysteries, he knows that it is out of reach from his previous world. Therefore, there is no way that Jongdae can know. His guard is up once again and he feels smaller in the vicinity of white. Jongdae’s beautiful mesh of colours fades out, leaving the space empty and cold. It doesn’t feel quite as safe as Yixing wants it to feel but there is nothing that he can do—nothing that he knows how to do, probably because of his reluctance to learn.

 

Jongdae just laughs and Yixing thinks he smells peaches.

 

“I know more than that,” Jongdae offers, “I know Yifan too, your best friend and…”

 

Jongdae smiles a warm pink again but doesn’t offer any more. He doesn’t want to spook but he does leave the thoughts to linger in the air. The brunet has been helping, by leaving things unanswered for Yixing to figure out. However, Yixing hasn’t opened himself up to try. He is not yet one hundred percent convinced that he is dead with no chance of returning home. This is different though. At this moment, Yixing senses danger and so he leaves it at that. Any further and Jongdae will definitely hit a sore spot. They both know it, but allow it to pass them gently. Instead, Yixing changes the question.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Jongdae takes the chance to laugh again, airily, beautiful cool colours coating his tone, “Just Jongdae.”

 

* * *

 

No one else joins them in the endless white so Yixing is conveniently calling it his personal haven. Furthermore, he comes to the conclusion that Jongdae is someone special. That is the only conclusion that he can come up with that will make sense. If that is not the case, then Jongdae is an angel, because he clearly has the patience and beauty of one. The brunet is also mysterious. He doesn’t offer if he is not asked and he keeps to himself when he knows that Yixing wants to be alone.

 

After Yixing grows comfortable, he takes some time to explore the place. He follows in Jongdae’s footsteps carefully. Yixing knocks on the walls to request a compartment to be open just like Jongdae had done and finds amusement in the way that the space opens up and gives him the exact thing that he wants. The first time it happens, a guitar is thrown at him. Yixing barely manages to catch it but he is delighted. He puts his musical talent to work and Jongdae leaves him alone. As he plays, he notices that Jongdae is staring longingly into the distance again. Yixing notes that it is an expression of someone who is waiting.

 

“Jongdae,” Yixing calls with affection that has developed from the pale pink to a light red, “What are you waiting here for?”

 

Jongdae turns to look at him, mouth slightly agape but no answer escapes him this time. Instead, he gives a faux smile. It doesn’t brighten up the white space with colour but instead, renders it chilly with an icy cold blue. Yixing shudders as the cold shiver runs down his spine, fear coiling in his stomach because he understands that some questions are not meant to be asked.

 

Chuckling to ease, Jongdae purses his lips and shakes his head. He doesn’t actually have an answer for that one. There are a lot of things that the brunet has come to know and understand but this is still a mystery to him. He had been waiting for Yixing, but now that the raven is here, Jongdae doesn’t know what else he is waiting for. Perhaps there is nothing left to wait for and all that Jongdae wants is a stalemate. However, it is not something that he can say, for fear that Yixing will not understand.

 

“What about you?” Jongdae replies.

 

Jongdae has been hearing a kind voice call. It sounds like a change of heart, a calling of guilt but it grows sincere as the days pass them by. Yixing is gone for too long and maybe a little too far. Jongdae doesn’t feel guilty in the slightest for keeping him, but he does feel selfish for the way that he holds on without reason. Jongdae wants to learn about love and he wants to shower the raven in it.

 

Yixing muses softly. “Well, I don’t see an exit sign.”

 

Jongdae just laughs, a little bitterly. “Maybe you’re not looking hard enough.”

 

* * *

 

“Byun Baekhyun?” Jongdae spits out with yellow venom that Yixing didn’t think was possible.

 

Yixing pauses, expression stuck on shock before he composes himself. He gives Jongdae another guarded smile, much like the one he had on them when they’d first met. Jongdae knows all of it anyway so there’s no point in trying to cover it up but Yixing just likes to try. He’s a little surprised but not relatively so. Jongdae knows Luhan and Yifan, so it has always been possible. The _how_ is the heart of the matter, but the brunet will probably not answer so Yixing takes a different path to avoid the potential conflict.

 

“Don’t start,” Yixing says gently; Baekhyun is special. Jongdae frowns with a shake of his head and Yixing follows in suit. “What’s that look for?”

 

The brunet shakes his head with refusal and Yixing pushes until he gets an answer. He supposes that Jongdae knows about that too, but he wants to confirm it with words. The conflict with Baekhyun is something that Yixing had kept to himself. He has not told Luhan or his best friend. Baekhyun is precious. Baekhyun is special. Even if he is wrong, if Yixing is not going to criticize him then no one else should.

 

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry.”

 

The raven raises a brow in question. There is a lot that he wants to know. Jongdae has always worn an apologetic expression around Yixing but it’s never really clicked as to why. Besides, berating Baekhyun today sounds nowhere near an apology. Furthermore, there is no need for Jongdae to apologise because everyone is entitled to their own opinion—not that Jongdae has managed to say anything yet. Besides, Yixing does not see why Jongdae has to apologise.

 

“Wait—” Yixing claims until he is interrupted.

 

The tinted pink smile does not quiet reach Jongdae’s eyes as he lowers himself before Yixing. The raven chokes up in shock as Jongdae bows deeply, as if he is worshipping Yixing, pressing his face close and breathing warm air against his ankle. Yixing’s protest is stuck in his throat, like coated honey and it is frustrating but Yixing forces himself to accept his inability. Jongdae will probably not listen to him, even if he can muster up the courage and the sound to voice his concerns.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae whispers but Yixing isn’t listening.

 

Instead, he closes his eyes together tightly to disconnect himself from the sensation and the words. Jongdae is at his feet, worshipping him and apologising for things that Yixing doesn’t understand. The brunet may have kissed him too but Yixing isn’t sure. He feels a tingling sensation wrap around his ankle and the warm breathe that slowly pulls away. Jongdae is probably frowning a deep grey crescent but Yixing refuses to look.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae repeats, “For not staying around to meet you.”

 

Finally, when he parts his eyes, Yixing glances down at his ankle, still slightly warm with heat and blinks repeatedly in confusion. There is coal like residue scattered by his feet but that’s not all it is. As if it has been renewed, there is now a bright red string wrapped lightly around his ankle. Yixing’s line of vision follows the string closely, mesmerised by the rare sight of mythology. It stretches over the white landscape, tangled around the vast white environment, circling the furniture, in knots, both tight and loose, but remains in tack and eventually leading him across the infinite sea of white to Jongdae.

 

* * *

 

Yixing thinks of bringing up the string but instead he finds himself talking about his life before death.

 

“Backup dancer,” Yixing offers gently, “I was working my way up.”

 

Jongdae sits with his legs crossed and his eyes elsewhere but Yixing knows that he is listening. The brunet is looking down at the white floor intently without shifting or turning. Out of curiosity, Yixing nudges a little closer and leans on Jongdae’s shoulder to steal a glance. Jongdae doesn’t move or shift away. The raven still sees white and only white but Jongdae feels like a deep blue, developing a cool thin layer of blanketing around them to keep a moderate temperature.

 

Slowly, the brunet turns away from the floor and stares directly at Yixing’s eyes. “Is dance everything to you?”

 

Yixing can’t help the smile that surfaces, almost as if it is mocking Jongdae’s question. “It isn’t.”

 

Jongdae stares a little longer and turns away when he realises that Yixing has just thought about Baekhyun. He knows that look well but he is not resentful of it. At least, Yixing has a better grasp on reality than he did. Yixing understands that there are things that are equally as important as one’s passion. However, even if Yixing’s thoughts had flashed to Baekhyun, his heart is currently closed. He knows that he’ll never be able to open up again in the same way to anyone else. It will take time and it will always be guarded, just like his smile.

 

“But if you can’t dance anymore…” Jongdae whispers dully grey.

 

“I don’t think I could ever give it up completely,” Yixing interjects with a warm smile that swirls orange heat within Jongdae’s stomach. “Everything about dance seems to latch itself to me and I can’t deny it.”

 

Jongdae nods his acknowledgement and turns back to silence. The brunet looks down again, a dim smile graces his features as he turns Yixing off to listen to the light echo, beating in rhythm. It is nagging him to return what he has stolen, but Jongdae closes his eyes and wills the guilt away. He only needs another moment.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, when Jongdae is napping, Yixing tugs at the string. It stretches a little further and burns a little brighter when they are near each other but Yixing still doesn’t quite understand it all. He has been putting the pieces together and understands their connection. Yixing is familiar with the Chinese mythology behind the red string that is often tied to their ankles, but has never believed that they are real.

 

He does understand that they’ve missed each other though. Yixing is certain that he does not know the brunet. If he had, he would have remembered the smile that is full of warm colours. However, death is an evitable part of life, there is no need for Jongdae to look so forlorn. He’s been wearing that expression ever since his apology and there is nothing that Yixing can say or do to remove it. The raven tried all sorts of things but has still failed to make a difference.

 

Every time he parts his lips to question or to offer, Yixing finds himself clamping down hard, teeth biting into lips to stop himself from being silly. There are things that he can offer and there are things that he just cannot. There are boundaries and he isn’t sure that he wants to cross them because Yixing’s feelings are still a complete mess. Even if he knows that they are tied together, he cannot change the fact that he doesn’t feel.

 

* * *

 

Jongdae wakes up to Calla Lilies. It happens once and Yixing is very surprised to a dash of colour that isn’t Jongdae in the endless white. The presence of the flowers consolidates Jongdae’s words and softens Yixing’s outer shell. He still questions it from time to time, but it happens less. Yixing has learnt to appreciate what is given to him in this temporary haven. He takes time to learn about Jongdae and enjoys any other time he has knocking on walls for entertainment. At the moment, he watches carefully as Jongdae moves about until he reaches the flowers.

 

The brunet pokes at the petals gently and mutters an old name affectionately, “Junmyeon.”

 

“An old friend?” Yixing pries.

 

Jongdae shakes his head gently, “Doctor.”

 

Unluckily for Junmyeon, Jongdae knows nothing about the language of flowers. He isn’t the type to care and has never had the time to. All of his focus had been on something else and nothing has mattered more than that. Besides, Junmyeon changes the flower every time. Jongdae only remembers the first set of flowers being hydrangea in purple. It probably hadn’t been all that positive because Jongdae still feels slightly guilty, though he has no idea what they were meant to signify.

 

“Well, he’s thinking of you.” Yixing offers softly. “Isn’t that enough?”

 

Jongdae smiles half heartedly, guilt washing over his entire posture. “Perhaps he should stop.”

 

* * *

 

Once the Calla Lilies have faded away, wilted and dry, Jongdae finally returns to his cheery self. And this time, he’s a little bit different, going around the white space and managing it like it’s his own technological development. He knocks on patches of the white walls and compartments open up, bringing things for his entertainment. Yixing is surprised and amazed but Jongdae brushes him off by asking Yixing to come and play the guitar. The raven comes immediately, tempted for sounds and brushes his hand across the guitar gently, a fond expression plaguing his features for the rest of the duration that they are there.

 

It is some of the better times that they have. There are no awkward silences between them because Yixing hasn’t asked a question that Jongdae doesn’t want to answer. And moreover, Jongdae doesn’t bring up the things that he knows about Yixing, that the raven doesn’t want to talk about. It is lovely and peaceful—the white hardly relevant because Jongdae is the splash of colour in it.

 

As Yixing plays, Jongdae hums along cheerily and Yixing feels a tugging, not at his heart strings, but at the red one connecting them, like it is dancing with joy.

 

* * *

 

Yixing attempts to improve their relationship since it seems like they won’t be going anywhere. Besides, he feels like he should try anyway. They’re meant to be connected so they probably will get along. Hovering over Jongdae who looks extremely bored the raven smiles and offers a hand. Jongdae lifts his head from the ground and the thick concentration on his face breaks when he sees Yixing’s smile.

 

“Shall we untangle it?”

 

He cocks his head in gesture of the red that lines the white space. Jongdae breaks into another warm smile, this one especially rare, as he spreads a mix of pink to hued orange reds. He takes Yixing’s hand gently, warmth spreading across their palms as they walk around to decide on a starting point. They find themselves a seat somewhere in the vast white and Jongdae reaches down to Yixing’s ankle, flexing his fingers carefully to loosen the loop in the string.

 

“Doesn’t this bother you?” Jongdae asks shortly after as he twirls the string to unhook it. “You know...?”

 

Yixing’s thoughts flashes to Baekhyun and he nods in reply. Yixing feels horrible for it, but he cannot bring himself to lie. He still thinks of Baekhyun despite the fact that it feels like he’ll never return. Besides, his relationship with Jongdae is mysterious. They are connected, but their bonding hasn’t done much for him. He still thinks of home, still thinks of Baekhyun despite knowing that he and Jongdae are meant to be. According to legend anyway, is his other usual thought.

 

“Well,” Yixing tries anyway because there is a possibility. “I’m—”

 

“You don’t have to force it,” Jongdae interjects as he stands and moves a little further to pull the string off their white furniture. “It wouldn’t have worked out in this lifetime anyway.”

 

“But I’m here with you,” Yixing argues as he stands to follow. “Right now.”

 

Jongdae flinches and pulls his hands away from the string.

 

“Did you hurt—”

 

“No,” the brunet answers instantly and picks up from where he had left off. “Don’t think about it anymore.”

 

Yixing nods and continues to help out. There is no escape from this place but Yixing isn’t complaining. Yixing has become accustomed to this place, of peace and quiet. There isn’t anyone here to bother him or tell him what he can and cannot do. If he wants to dance then he can dance. If he wants to sing, then he can sing. There is no judging, no scrutiny and no expectations to be met. Besides, he has good company. He is _fond_ of Jongdae and with all the time that they seem to have, he is sure that they can develop a mutual liking.

 

“I wanted to sing,” the brunet confesses quietly with the red string looped neatly around his hand to make sure that it doesn’t tangle again. “I really wanted to sing.”

 

Yixing tunes in carefully, not speaking but nodding to show that he is listening. The confession sparks more questions but he doesn’t allow himself to ask them. He wants to hear Jongdae sing and thinks that it is a pity he hasn’t heard it, despite the number of times that he has played the guitar. However, Jongdae is slow at opening up so he has to be careful. Yixing needs to give him the space and Jongdae will make way eventually, at his own pace and in his own time. Jongdae closes his eyes and exhales deeply. Yixing continues to help with the untangling wordlessly—this one knot is particularly hard to untie.

 

“But they told me that the operation for the tumour would leave me voiceless,” Jongdae continues dryly, rubbing his throat at the old memory. “I couldn’t have that.”

 

At the end of his words, Jongdae’s dainty fingers have somehow, managed to untie the double knots pulled tightly together, but he doesn’t look pleased. Instead, he looks a little lost now that the tangles are loose and free. Yixing is confused but doesn’t offer any comment on it. Jongdae’s expression changes very quickly, as he gets back onto his feet with cheer. The brunet knows very well now that there is nothing he can change by brooding, so his attitude changes quickly, even if he holds regret.

 

“It’s done,” Jongdae waves a hand of the neatly wrapped string on his hands. “Now, if we move carefully, it won’t tangle again.”

 

It registers very slowly for Yixing and when he realises, his whole body convulses violently to a freeze. When Jongdae turns to meet his gaze, it is the same sad, apologetic look that he has been wearing for all the time they have been together. Only this time, it is deeper and more remorseful than Yixing remembers it being. He stands to follow and parts his lips to tell Jongdae that there is no blame.

 

“Jong—”

 

The brunet turns abruptly and Yixing seals his lips as he watches Jongdae walk away, the red string slipping from his grasp and falling gently back down onto the ground, straightened and proper. Yixing keeps his eyes locked on the red string that connects them and finds that there is nothing that he can say that will make things right. Jongdae’s mistake and his feelings are not something that he can apologise for.

 

* * *

 

Yixing cannot bring himself to invade Jongdae’s personal space. Now more than ever, it seems like he is repenting for having chosen to leave. Yixing thinks of all the possibilities for them, if they had met. Even from all the interactions that he has had with the brunet, Yixing isn’t sure of how things would have gone. This may not be the person that Jongdae had been while he was alive. They could be friends because they are already are. That comes easily and Yixing can happily say that Jongdae is a friend that he will treasure, but he cannot promise anything else.

 

In the end, he tries again to make things comfortable. Yixing stands at a relative distance and calls out to Jongdae, “Before you start, can you promise to stop apologising?”

 

Jongdae raises a brow but Yixing refuses to give into the pout that follows, so the brunet begrudgingly nods his reply. However, before they close the distance again, Jongdae holds his hands up and keeps the space between them. He doesn’t allow Yixing to step any closer as he waltzes around the white space. It shouldn’t really be surprising to see Jongdae peel a white cloth away to reveal a grand piano, but Yixing is still stunned into silence.

 

Jongdae’s laugh echoes in amusement and he takes the time that Yixing is out to seat himself. It is the sounds of the keys dancing that draws Yixing back in. The notes dance around Yixing alongside Jongdae’s angelic voice, floating across the air swiftly and smoothly with every movement that it makes on its way to Yixing’s side. The colours that follow, when Yixing stares, falls like spring rain before it coats the ground beneath his feet to mimic a rainbow.

 

Yixing is awe for as long as Jongdae decides to grace him with the heavenly voice. When it ends, the note ringing out lightly, Yixing can tell exactly why Jongdae had not been able to give it up. The passion that the brunet sings with is fiery enough to burn and way too strong to be diminished. Yixing stands still, unable to move as he waits for his nerves to calm. When Jongdae finally lifts his hand from the keys, he turns with a triumph smile. This time, it is real, without tones and shades to hide anything underneath it and it shakes all of the things that Yixing feels is his foundation. Yixing staggers backwards, heart thumping despite his death because he is so certain of himself.

 

If it is Jongdae, he may be able to fall in love.

 

* * *

 

However, the possibility produces fear and evading becomes a regular thing. Usually, the brunet gives him the space that he needs, but Yixing knows that he is being ridiculous, so being hunted down is not something that he can complain about. Ever since, Yixing is always watching his back to make sure that he doesn’t suddenly run into Jongdae. He’s found out enough of this place to know that there are places which he can hide, if he really wishes for it.

 

“Was the gift a burden?” Jongdae catches him off guard.

 

Yixing jumps, eyes widening as he tries to calm himself with a hand on his chest. His eyes dart around the once again white environment and he shakes his head.

 

“I don’t think I’m deserving of it.”

 

Jongdae hums his acknowledgement and then turns to the floor again. As usual, he accepts what Yixing has to offer and doesn’t push for a different answer. Instead, now that they have finally spoken briefly of it, Jongdae goes and commences his normal routine. He finds himself a seat and then stares down at the empty white floor. Yixing follows in suit but as usual, there is nothing interesting there.

 

* * *

 

“I think it’s enough, don’t you?”

 

Jongdae is the one to push. He wakes Yixing from his slumber with a light shake, but doesn’t force the raven to move off his knees. Yixing looks up at Jongdae with bewilderment, wondering how he got there in the first place, but knows that an answer is unnecessary because Jongdae is safe. His eyes dart to find something, anything like the light in Jongdae’s chocolate orbs or the tinge of pink in his smile but it is not there. Therefore, he lowers his gaze to the find the string that leads him to Jongdae. It sits on the floor, pooling around them, lit up in a magical red and points the way to Jongdae and for once, Yixing curses that the string is unable to show him Jongdae’s heart.

 

“Is there an exit after all?” Yixing questions softly, fear boiling under his skin.

 

A new place means that he will have to adjust again. Yixing isn’t sure that he can handle doing that again, right after he has gotten comfortable to be here. The raven also doesn’t know what he will do without Jongdae beside him. Despite not admitting it, Jongdae’s presence has been very calming and soothing.

 

“Yes,” Jongdae tells him, voice shaky. “There is an exit for you.”

 

“But I—”

 

“I lied,” Jongdae confesses.

 

Yixing doesn’t even have the time to be angry or confused. Jongdae caresses his cheeks gently, rubbing softly against the skin, expression still apologetic as he speaks. Yixing blinks slowly Jongdae’s projection before him fades periodically, in and out. Heat pools in his belly and he feels the fear swirling until it hurts.

 

“I have to return you,” Jongdae whispers, rubbing gently circles on his cheeks. “You’ll be in good hands.”

 

“Wait—” Yixing can barely hear himself anymore.

 

“Next time,” Jongdae promises before he fades into the backdrop. “I won’t give up.”

 

_Fin._


End file.
